Beneath the Shadows (13 page)

‘I'll be okay. Besides, I've got Ben helping me out, so hopefully that will speed things up.'

‘Ah, yes. Ben.' James put the papers down. ‘Tell me about Annabel's hottie – has she seduced him yet?'

Grace ignored the unease she felt at the question. ‘I doubt it. He's very reserved. He's been a godsend to me, though, as I was worried it would take weeks for me to find someone to work on the cottage. Although Annabel has been monopolising him a bit of late, for her “story”.' Grace made speech marks in the air and James chuckled. ‘They've been roving all over the moors with him telling her spooky tales. But that's all, I think.'

‘How romantic,' James commented dryly. ‘Trust Annabel.'

‘Trust Annabel what?' said the woman herself, appearing at the door.

‘I was admiring your dedication to getting a good story,' James laughed, then spluttered on his coffee as Annabel clipped his head with her hand as she went past. ‘Ow.'

‘You deserved it.'

‘So, what's the plan for today then?' James asked. ‘There appear to be all sorts of exciting possibilities around here.' He got up and gestured out at the white sky and the bare expanse of the moors, now pockmarked with last night's melting snow.

‘You're as bad as Annabel!' Grace went across to the worktop and poured her sister a drink. ‘Tell you what, let's go for a walk while the weather holds, see if we can get you two city slickers to actually enjoy a bit of fresh air.'

‘Whatever,' Annabel murmured, leafing through a magazine as she accepted the mug Grace handed to her.

James winked at Grace. ‘Good plan.' She smiled back at him, but faltered for a moment at the expression in his eyes before he looked away.

As Grace strapped Millie into her pushchair, she listened to Annabel and James on the doorstep, both complaining about being outside in the bitter cold.

‘Are you sure this is a good idea?' Annabel asked doubtfully, rubbing her arms with her gloved hands.

‘It's only a walk, Annabel, it won't kill you,' Grace retorted, surprising herself. In London, she had regularly grumbled about the distances between bus, tube and destination, but now she found herself looking forward to these long countryside rambles. ‘Come on.' She pushed Millie's pushchair towards the gate, the others falling in step behind her.

To reach the moorland path, they headed up the steep road past the other cottages. ‘Who lives in these places?' James asked, breaking the hush of the frosty morning.

Grace looked across at the row of cottages as she replied. ‘Emma and Carl are next door to me. They're lovely.
Apparently an old man called Feathery Jack lives in that one –' she pointed to the cottage with smoke rising from the chimney, ‘but he's reclusive by all accounts. I've never seen him. And Ben lives in the house at the top.' She motioned towards the redbrick dwelling standing incongruously beside its stone neighbours.

‘Feathery Jack?' Annabel repeated. ‘What's that about?'

‘He keeps birds, apparently – owls.'

‘That's actually pretty cool,' James said.

Annabel raised an eyebrow at him.

They continued walking in silence, following the tarmacked road to the summit, leaving the houses behind. At the top, they turned down a path marked only by flattened grass and occasional groups of uneven stones. They made their way along until they reached another peak, and as they crested the hill the moors spread out before them.

‘There's not a lot of green about, is there,' James said.

‘That's because it's winter,' Grace snapped, lifting Millie out of her pushchair and hoisting her onto her shoulders so she could take in the view. ‘Here,' she instructed the others, ‘before you both start gabbling away, shut up for a moment and look at this place, will you, and breathe it in. It might be deserted, but it's absolutely pristine.'

Annabel glanced across at Grace and tutted, but then did as requested. James turned obediently, but with his arms folded as though he doubted he'd be impressed. Grace surveyed the desolate expanse, mottled with melting snow, wondering why she'd felt so defensive when James had spoken. There was something beautiful about this place, she thought – in daylight, the raw, untouched vista had the power to stop your
mind for a moment. Here, you didn't have to look up to see the sky, it came right down and met you, ever-present beyond the ceaseless shifting of colour, clouds and light.

Briefly, the void inside her was filled with something close to peace. She remembered standing in a similar spot with Adam, holding hands, their tiny daughter in a sling against her chest. She recalled the sense of belonging she had felt; the contentment in Adam's face. Even though he wasn't here, this place linked them. So should she indulge her occasional crazy notions about staying here and trying to carve out a life for herself once the cottage was renovated? Of course not, she told herself hastily. She was a city girl. But she was all too aware that she had never known London as a single mother, and she wasn't daft enough to think it would be the same for her now.

So what choices did she have? She sighed. Nothing much was clear to her at the moment. Nothing except Millie's mittened hands clutching her mother's ponytail. When she looked at her daughter she felt a resolve of purpose beyond herself, and at present that was enough to keep her going when everything else seemed so uncertain.

She let her thoughts drift away, coming back to her surroundings. The chilly air filled her nostrils, fresh and slightly sweet. As she breathed in, a gust of cold wind nipped at her face, setting her teeth on edge.

‘It is beautiful, in a rugged, remote sort of way,' Annabel said, breaking the spell. ‘But still, you shouldn't hide out here for too long, Grace …'

Grace felt stung by the remark. ‘I'm not hiding, Annabel. I'm doing what needs to be done.'

Annabel and James caught each other's eyes, and Grace
had to breathe deeply to stop herself yelling at them. She put Millie back in her pushchair, then barked, ‘This way,' and walked off without checking to see if they were coming with her.

No one spoke as they followed the rough stone path, the fresh, clean air rolling over the hills and bursting into their faces. The wind was a puppeteer, bending the trees to its will and making the dead leaves and twigs dance and scuttle along the ground away from them. Grace tried to concentrate on pushing Millie along the rocky path, but her mind insisted on drifting back to what Annabel had just said. Was she hiding? Was that really why she had come back?

She attempted to distract herself, watching a flock of fieldfares dart overhead, and Millie shrieked with delight as they spooked a grouse into noisy flight. But for the most part there was nothing except a glorious expanse of nature at its barest, and for Grace the solitude and silence were settling. Out here she didn't feel so lost, or overwhelmed, or alone.

They reached a patch of open ground with a cluster of large flat boulders, which overlooked the train line that followed the curves of the valley. As they slowed, Annabel cried, ‘Oh my god, that's Lover's Leap.' She pointed to a place a little further on, where the rail track crossed a steel bridge suspended above a small gorge, partially hidden from view. ‘I read about it in your book, Grace, and Ben mentioned it as well. It's probably the most haunted place in the area. People have been going over the edge since time began, apparently – usually because of unrequited love.'

James shook his head. ‘Love makes people do the strangest things,' he said, gazing into the distance.

Grace couldn't bear this conversation. ‘Can we keep going?' she asked them, hurriedly getting up.

The other two got to their feet and followed her. Grace tried to imagine Ben telling Annabel stories of the moors, unable to picture him conversing so freely. Then her mind switched back to Adam, wandering along this same track with her, his arm slung over her shoulders as he told her about his plans for the cottage, for their new life.

All at once, she couldn't bear her constant reminiscing. She stopped and swung round, startling James and Annabel. ‘Where the hell is he?' she cried. ‘What happened? I mean, he wouldn't just disappear. And he wasn't the kind to jump off cliffs.'

She glared at them, hands on hips, demanding that one of them answer her.

‘He might still come back,' Annabel said uncertainly.

‘Why the hell would you say that?' Grace shouted. She caught Millie's eye, and as she registered Millie's alarm she made an effort to calm herself down. ‘Don't you see, I can't think like that any more. Because how long am I meant to wait? There are no rules as far as I can see. What's the proper time for this? Two years? Five? Ten? I could spend the rest of my life waiting – what kind of miserable existence is that?'

There was silence, then James said, ‘Grace, I'm not sure that staying here is good for you if it's making you feel like this.'

Grace threw her hands in the air. ‘I KNOW that, James! But what choice do I have? I have no major assets except a damned cottage I can't sell, and I have to sort everything out properly for Millie's sake. Adam did care about his daughter,
whatever anyone says, and I want her at least to have some things of her father's to remember him by. And that's as far as I can think about it without going crazy.'

Annabel came over and began to rub Grace's arm. ‘Let's not talk about it any more. Let's help you do what you need to, and try to enjoy Christmas. Time to move on, eh?'

Grace saw that Annabel was upset now. Her sister's heartfelt sympathy took the fight out of her, and she buried her face in her hands. ‘I miss him,' she said, confused and defeated, feeling her eyes filling with tears. At which James and Annabel both wrapped their arms around her, taking her weight, even if only for a moment.

Millie sat on her mother's lap, as Grace turned the pages of a book and pointed to the pictures. Her mood was low, and she wondered if it would have been better had they gone to town with James and Annabel. But she needed to stop for a while and rest, particularly as she was heading out this evening. And she also wanted to spend some proper time with Millie. Grace knew she was physically meeting her daughter's needs, but her mind was often elsewhere, and meanwhile Millie grew and changed every day. Grace wanted to absorb as much of this sweet little toddler as she could.

As she closed the book, there was an unexpected knock on the door. She jumped, startling Millie. ‘Who's that?' Grace asked as Millie stared impassively at her. She set the little girl on the floor with the book and went to find out.

Opening the door, she was greeted by a Christmas tree, standing alone in front of her, its branches flailing in the
wind. ‘Did you knock?' she asked the tree, then couldn't help chuckling to herself.

‘Yes, we did.' Ben peeped around from behind it. ‘I thought you might like this. If you don't want it I'll put it up instead, but I think it would go better in here. And I heard that you'd knocked down a wall to make room for it.'

Grace beamed at him. ‘That's a great idea. Thank you!'

She stood back as Ben lifted the tree and swung it over the threshold, pushing it towards the front room. Millie looked up in awe, and Grace went to pick her up, while Ben asked, ‘Where do you want it?'

‘There is fine.' Grace pointed towards an bare corner, and Ben manoeuvred it into place. ‘It's a shame I don't have any decorations for it, though.'

Ben dusted his hands off as he studied the bare branches. ‘Are you sure you don't?' he asked. ‘You've got a lot of boxes in this place, perhaps one of them has Christmas stuff in?'

‘You're right,' she said as she cuddled Millie. ‘I'll have a look in the tops of them, see if I can find anything. I don't think they'd have been in the attic – but perhaps there might be something in the cellar …'

They walked through the hallway to the cellar door. ‘Do you want me to take a look?' Ben offered.

‘No, it's fine. I know where the light switch is now.'

‘Shall I take Millie for you then?'

‘You can try,' Grace replied, not really anticipating that Millie would allow it. But to her astonishment the little girl went willingly to Ben.

‘Right, then,' she said, ruffling her daughter's hair. ‘I won't be a moment.'

She made her way down the steps. At the bottom she felt along the wall for the light switch and flicked it on. The place still depressed her, with its piles of debris and stacks of boxes, but she began to hunt around.

It was so cold down here. Everything she touched was icy, and Grace felt the chill creeping up her fingers and beginning to crawl along her arms. She came across Adam's mementoes again, and remembered that he had brought them down here unbeknown to her. Perhaps I should have a more careful look at them, she thought, growing impatient. Then she spotted tinsel poking from the top of a small box. ‘I've got something!' she called as she pulled it from the shelf, finding it was lighter than she'd expected.

There was no reply from Ben as Grace went across to the stairs. She switched off the light and headed up, holding the box awkwardly in front of her and navigating by the strip of illumination coming through the doorway at the top.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut with a loud bang and she was plunged into blackness. Shock made her drop the box, and she heard it tumbling away down the stairs. Panic seized her, and she scrambled blindly up the rest of the steps until she felt the wood of the door solid against her palms. She began to hammer on it with her fists, until it swung open.

Ben and Millie stared worriedly at her frightened face.

‘Grace, are you all right?' Ben asked, as Millie reached out for her.

She clutched the door frame as she gulped in air. ‘I'm fine,' she said, taking Millie. ‘The door slammed and gave me a fright.'

‘Sorry.' Ben sounded contrite. ‘I'd taken Millie outside to
say hi to Bess, and I heard the bang – the draught must have blown it closed.' He noticed her empty hands. ‘You didn't find anything?'

‘There's a Christmas box, but I dropped it.' She wavered, reluctant to go down there again.

‘I'll get it.' Ben headed down into the darkness.

Grace stroked Millie's hair while they waited, saying, ‘Mummy got a fright, but it's fine now,' as Millie clung tightly to her.

A moment later, Ben reappeared. ‘Here you go,' he said, carrying the box through to the living room. He set it down on the floor and stood up, dusting off his hands.

He was getting ready to leave, and Grace realised how much she didn't want to be alone.

‘Would you like to stay while we decorate the tree?' she asked. ‘I have beer.'

Ben smiled. ‘That would be good, but I don't want to leave Bess out in this weather for too long …'

‘Bring her in, then.'

‘Are you sure?'

‘Of course.'

Ben went to the front door and a moment later Bess bounded inside and began sniffing at everything in sight. To Grace's surprise, Millie struggled to be free, and once on the ground the little girl gawped at the dog in amazement, and even chuckled briefly when Bess licked her face. Grace knelt down and patted Bess, feeling herself warming to the dog. She couldn't be too nervous of an animal that could make her daughter giggle like that.

When Annabel and James arrived home they found Bess curled up in front of the fireplace, looking on as Grace and Ben put the final touches to the Christmas tree. Millie sat beside them, playing with an assortment of baubles that she had commandeered.

‘What are you doing here, Ben?' Annabel asked as she began pulling off her gloves.

‘You told me you didn't have a Christmas tree,' he said. ‘So I brought you one.'

Grace felt her face fall as she saw Annabel's light up. She'd thought the tree was for Millie's benefit. Why did she care? she asked herself, as she began to help them with the bags.

‘I think we've got enough food to feed the whole village,' Annabel announced as she went across to give Bess a stroke. ‘You should have seen the town, Grace, it was like one of those olde-worlde postcards – the market was on a cobbled street, everyone was wearing Christmas hats, and all the shops were decorated with multicoloured twinkling lights and streams of tinsel.'

As she listened, Grace noticed that the two men were eyeing each other, waiting for introductions. ‘James, this is Ben.'

They shook hands. ‘Been hearing a lot about you,' James said.

‘Oh?' Ben looked wary.

James smiled. ‘All good, don't worry. Annabel's been telling me about your daytrips. Local, are you?'

‘Used to be.' Ben went across to get his coat. ‘Not lived here for a long time now, but I know some of the old stories.'

‘Are you coming to the ball tonight?'

‘No.' Ben shook his head. ‘Not my thing. Come on, Bess.'

The dog sprang to her feet.

‘I'll see you all tomorrow then?' Ben looked around the room at them before he turned to leave.

Grace went to see him out. She wished he were coming to the ball. She enjoyed his unobtrusive company, and wanted to get to know him better.

‘Thanks again for the tree,' she called after him belatedly as he neared the gate, with Bess trotting behind him.

He didn't turn, just waved a hand in reply.